Saturday, April 27th, 2002 | 18:44
Some things aren't things for a reason.

Some little pricks egged my fucking house last night. I woke up at 3:30 to yolk running down the window. I got up and looked outside but the assholes were hiding behind the hedges. I went back to sleep, just a little peeved.
If only my weekdays were as active as my weekends, I'd be in shape.
Remember that book you gave me? The one that was all about us? I was reading it the other day. It sits in a big black box in the corner of my room.
You can't erase us. You cannot change history.
Left so bare, all I've got is __ ________?

back | forth | older | guestbook | mail | profile | rings | diaryland